On the Railway
by SquigglyDot
Summary: Human POV - A worker on the railway gets a small glimpse into Skimbleshanks' life when a kitten follows him onto the train


On the Railway

By: SquigglyDot

Human P.O.V.- visualize the Jellicles as actual cats, please and thank you

Disclaimer: All rights to T.S. Elliot and Andrew Lloyd Webber- I own nothing

On the Railway

There was a light bustle from the movement on the platform as the remaining passengers of the Northern Mail shuffled towards that passenger car. I watched them all patiently since they still had several minutes before the signal would sound and we would all be on our way- that is if Skimbleshanks decided to make an appearance for the go-ahead. He'd flashed by my line of sight not long ago, so I wasn't too concerned.

"Pardon me," an older, finely dressed woman called out to and I brought my attention back to the job at hand. She was struggling with a parcel of luggage, and while she seemed to be an upstanding woman who didn't like to, she was reluctantly asking for help.

I stepped from the train and made my way over to her; she gave me a pleasant smile. The luggage was heavier than I had thought, much too heavy for a woman to be handling all by herself, so I huffed and puffed back to the train. With age no longer on my side and a little more around the waist then I would like to admit, I struggled behind the woman as she made her way to one of the first passenger compartments.

The bag was set down with a heavy thud and I worked to straighten my back without it cracking too loud. The lady passenger thanked me profusely, offering me a tip that was much too large, but I kindly refused, wished her a pleasant trip, and made my way back towards the front of the car.

The whistle rang out, startling me. Somehow, time had gotten away from me and the train soon started rumbling down the tracks. The engineer must have spotted Skimbleshanks because we were right on schedule and Scotland Yard became just a speck on the horizon.

Most of the passengers were tucked away in their own compartments, while others had taken their seats earlier, and were chattering quietly to amongst each other.

The sun had already started a slow decent on our left as we continued heading North when something caught my attention from my station at the front of the car. A passenger must have dropped something, as something white flashed beneath the seats of the first few rows. I knelt down to search for the tripping hazard only to find that there was nothing on the floor.

Straightening, I scratched my head, ignoring my thinning hair, and looked about, several of the passengers giving me curious glances. I smiled at them and turned to resume my seat when I was halted.

A small white fuzz ball of a kitten was perched on my empty chair watching us all intently. She had large, innocent eyes and a white studded collar; her wavy white fur pristinely falling in a manner that gave her an air of elegance. She blinked at me.

When had she gotten aboard and whom did she belong to? While Skimbleshanks was an exception, it wasn't exactly customary for passengers to bring their pets aboard, let alone release them on the train.

I walked over to pick her up but she jumped from my grasp with grace. She peacefully seated herself on a nearby windowsill as if she was royalty- a queen perhaps. Several names popped into my head, but I decided on dubbing this cat either Queen Elizabeth or Queen Victoria. How would Skimbleshanks react to the intrusion of another cat? On the other hand, how do I figure out whom she belongs to?

"Elizabeth," I called out softly, but she ignored me, managing to move out of my reach once more, without even looking at me. Someone behind me chuckled and I realized that I must look very silly trying to catch this kitten. Clicking my tongue several times, I inched my way forward, cooing softly, "Victoria."

The fuzz ball's little head swiveled around so she could stare at me in surprise. It seems she liked the name, though, as she slowly scooted towards me. She was almost in my reach.

There was a loud meow from the back of the passenger car, which immediately had 'Queen Victoria's attention on our Railway Cat. She purred and hopped away from me without a second glance, meeting the orange tabby as he came up beside me. They nuzzled each other in greeting.

While she was distracted, I scooped the kitten into my arms and was met with a low growl- a low growl from the usually content Skimble. He glared at me, unblinking, as Victoria struggled in my grip until I gently set her back down. It seemed that the Railway Cat knew this little ball of fuzz and was intent on keeping her safe. He licked her forehead and she tucked herself up against him even as she glared up at me with those large eyes.

With that, Skimbleshanks turned tail and made his way towards the next car, Victoria following intently after him. They disappeared together behind the door.

For several days the little white kitten, having been adopted by the crew as 'Victoria', followed Skimbleshanks with diligence.

I'm not sure if it was because Victoria was infatuated with the older cat or if he wouldn't even dare to let her out of his sight. But this trip was different; Skimble seemed weary of everyone and everything, so I pegged it on the latter. Perhaps she was his kitten and she had followed him aboard? It seemed completely plausible but there was no way to be sure.

Skimble still kept a diligent patrol of all the happenings on the Sleeping Car Express but on more than one occasion I found him sitting on my chair, which had an extra cushion for my bad back, with Victoria curled up beside him, sleeping silently. He would emit a low, warning growl if anyone happened to close. On the occasions that I watched them eat, Skimble always made sure that the kitten was full before he would take his turn. He was doting on her and she loved it, enthusiastic about all of the happenings that she was encountering on her trip.

With every stop, both cats were found watching the passengers depart, many of who wanted to know if the white kitten was to be a permanent addition to the crew. And I couldn't blame them; she was a sweetie. Skimbleshanks eventually warmed up enough to the idea of a few of us handling the newcomer, and she would sit contently on my lap, purring happily as I scratched behind her ear, all under the watchful gaze of the orange tabby who was seated beside me.

Our Railway Cat seemed to perk up considerably when the train started to make its way back towards Scotland Yard.

It was just a little before noon when we pulled into the train station near Scotland Yard. Skimbleshanks, who was usually an enduring advocate of patience, paced expectantly at the back of the car, Victoria watching him from her perch on a nearby seat, which a passenger had willingly sacrificed a pillow to.

I helped several passengers collect their luggage, and in some cases children, until there were only a few stragglers left. I sat down; needing to take a quick break when I spotted a black Maine Coon with an impressive golden mane perched on a nearby fence. He looked about in boredom, his tail twitching beside him.

Skimbleshanks jumped to the windowsill and glanced out before making his way back to Victoria. She stood, stretching lazily, and followed him down the car so that they were beside me. The white kitten rubbed up against my leg, purring softly. I scratched her head.

The outside activity had started to die down and the two made their way easily across the platform. I spotted a silver tabby and a smaller black cat sitting beneath the outer fence and it hardly surprised me that they were there to rendezvous with the Railway Cat and his guest.

I watched as Victoria rushed forward upon spotting them, immediately getting nuzzled by the small black cat in a warm greeting. She paused sheepishly before the larger, silver tabby, who looked like he should be scolding her, but instead he slowly put his forehead to hers, and she nuzzled him happily- an overprotective softy, I rationalized.

Skimbleshanks moved forward after the greeting came to an end and he put out his paw, which the silver tabby touched gently like they were old friends. It was as if the orange tabby of the railway was thanking this silver newcomer for collecting the kitten while at the same time the silver tabby was thankful that he kept an eye on her and had brought her back home. There seemed to be a whole other side to Skimble that I had never seen before.

The lean black cat stepped forward, nuzzling the Railway Cat.

All of the cats, save the silver tabby, startled when the Maine Coon jumped from the fence, interrupting the meeting. Skimbleshanks sent the troublemaker a disapproving glare even while Victoria quickly cleaned her paws and straightened up. The Maine Coon purred as he sauntered towards the kitten, his spiked collar glinting in the sun. Victoria bashfully nuzzled the larger cat and I could have sworn I saw the black cat roll his eyes.

With that the silver tabby meowed and in a flash Victoria and the black cat had taken off towards the exit. Skimbleshanks nodded towards the tabby even as the Maine Coon swaggered off in the same direction.

Without another thought, Skimble had returned to the passenger car, ready to carry on with his usual duties.

I leaned heavily against the train where I had been observing the whole thing and caught the silver tabby's gaze. He stared at me, unblinking. It was as if he was sizing me up, trying to determine if I was a threat or not, and I'm sure he had seen my interaction with the white kitten, and was not really fond of it.

The long, bored meow of the Maine Coon was the only reason that the tabby took his eyes off me. With only one more passing glance, he followed after the black and gold cat, not once looking back.

When I turned around to start my own duties, I found the orange tabby sitting beside me. He watched me for a moment, his disapproving stare evidence that he did not appreciate my 'eavesdropping' on the five cats, but then he looked back at where they had been, and I noticed a sense of longing; he had a family here that he left behind every time he joined us on the railway.

Reaching down, I gingerly scratched him behind the ear. He purred for me, if only for a moment, and I took it as a sign that everything was all right.

Skimbleshanks was an interesting cat, but there was no doubt in my mind that his family in Scotland Yard was just as amazing, and that I had witnessed something that day that not many had been granted.


End file.
